It’s in. And, as Martha would say, it’s a good thing.
In Montana, our recycling infrastructure is … limited. Vast distances, few folks. I assume that the combination makes some types of recycling economically absurd. Even in Missoula, an island of liberalism and fabulous Israeli couscous in far western Montana, and a place I enjoyed calling home, on and off, for some seven years, glass is not recycled, though most everything else is.
Here in the middle of nowhere, we haul our empty aluminum cans to Cut Bank (70 miles away), burn what can be burned, and toss most of the rest. I’d really like to compost, but what with the bears popping in and out of our yard, it seems a bit risky. However, we are pretty good at reusing what can be reused. Most plastic and glass food containers at my house are repurposed for storing frozen soup, packing lunches, or holding odd screws and nuts in the garage. Paper and plastic bags are saved and used at trade shows for folks to place their Glacier County honey in. Orange juice bottles become vessels for used motor oil. Styrofoam peanuts and other packaging materials from products we’ve ordered over the internets are reused in packaging Glacier County Honey beeswax candles and Christmas ornaments for shipping – in fact, I’ve yet to spend a dime on packaging for Glacier County Honey Co! That might be indicative of a larger online shopping habit, though.
At any rate, I believe that these tiny acts of recycling matter. Despite the recent media slobber fest over the “green” term, I don’t really think of recycling being “green.” Rather, I think of my lovely grandmother, who hardly ever throws out anything, in that frugal way of Great Depression survivors. Recycling, repurposing, reusing – call it what you may, but she might remind you that it all comes down to just plain good sense.
When Brother Dear and Honeydew were out beekeeping last week, they crossed over Cut Bank Creek en route to one of our bee yards. I have become accustomed to the sight below, and probably would never have thought to take a picture of it, but I surmise that Brother Dear was amused, or impressed, or both, by how folks in this area have recycled a bunch of junked cars:
Cut Bank Creek. With junk cars, recycled/repurposed/reused to shore up its banks.
Pretty ingenious, no? Do your part, y’all. I’m going to try to do better here, too. Does pledging to buy more wine packaged in boxes, and not bottles, count? Makes sense to me!
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